Frightful
by Rainey13
Summary: It's Halloween, June is having a party... and Samantha gets to choose Neal's costume.


"That's almost it. Just a little higher. Now a tad to your left."

Neal shifted his feet carefully on the ladder rung, reaching over to adjust the lights per June's instructions. "How's that?"

"Perfect! Oh, I can't wait for tonight so we can see everything lit up."

"It should be pretty impressive." Neal made his way down the ladder and stepped back, inspecting his work.

June was throwing a Halloween party – a combination thank-you to the staff at the children's hospital where Samantha had undergone her kidney transplant, and a fund-raiser to help expand the family services program there. And he'd been conscripted, rather willingly, into helping decorate the house.

He hadn't really paid a lot of attention the year before; his release to work for the FBI was still a little too recent, and his status a little too uncertain. And he hadn't even met Samantha yet. But he certainly didn't recall a lot of Halloween decorating going on in the stately, older neighborhood.

Well, that would change this year, especially once all of the lights on June's house went on. He and Samantha, and a few of her friends had also been busy carving jack-o-lanterns over the last couple of evenings. And the party itself, organized by none other than Burke Premier Events, was sure to be a success.

There was just one little thing that was bothering him…

"Well, are you ready to see your costume?"

Yup, that was the 'little thing' that was bothering him. "June, about that…"

"You did promise that Samantha could pick your costume if she won the game."

"I did."

"And she won."

"Yes – more or less."

"Come, Neal. It's going to be lovely."

He watched as June started up the front steps, hesitating before he followed her. For just a moment, he considered turning the other way. As much as he sometimes chafed at the two-mile restriction on his movements, it was still sufficient space to get lost in for a few hours – at least from someone who didn't have access to the marshal's tracking system.

With a deep sigh, he pulled the ladder away from the house and released the locking mechanism, letting the extension slide down. Who was he kidding? He wouldn't run out on June.

_And really, how bad could the costume be…_

* * *

><p>"Well, what do you think?"<p>

Peter looked up from the case file in front of him, smiling as Elizabeth came into view from the stairs. A wide poodle skirt swung around her hips, topped with a varsity sweater with a huge letter "B" on it. Bobby socks with black and white saddle shoes completed the outfit, and her hair was pulled back in a bouncy pony tail.

He grinned and stood up. "I think I woke up in the wrong century."

"Think you would have fallen for me if I'd been dressed like this when we met?"

His smile widened as he wrapped his arms around her. "I think I would have fallen for you no matter what you were wearing."

"Awwwww." She stretched up, kissing his cheek. "That's sweet. You know, it's not too late to come along. We could slick your hair back, and maybe that black denim jacket. Some white socks, roll the cuffs of your jeans…"

"Oh, I think the James Dean look is more up Neal's alley than mine. What _is_ his costume anyway?"

"Don't know. Apparently he lost a bet to Samantha and she got to pick for him."

"Now _that_ would almost be worth going along just to see what she came up with."

"Well…"

Peter sighed and pointed at the files. "I can finish this today, while you're running your event, and then we have tomorrow to ourselves. Or I can go with you today and then I have to work tomorrow."

Elizabeth's sigh matched his own. "It's not enough that you already work sixty or more hours most weeks?"

"The bad guys just never stop, El."

"Then I'll take tomorrow." She kissed him again, and then picked up her keys and the briefcase with all of the details she needed for the event. "Just don't work too hard today, because you're going to need your strength."

The way she lowered her voice to add that last bit hit Peter all the way down to his toes. "Mrs. Burke, I will be up for whatever you have planned."

"And I'll hold you to that, Mr. Burke."

He leaned in for one more kiss. "Love you, hon."

* * *

><p>"No way. I'm not leaving this room dressed like this!"<p>

June stifled the urge to laugh – actually, it might be more like a giggle that was trying to make its way out. And she hadn't giggled for a _long_ time. But the absolutely sublime sad puppy look on Neal's face was almost enough…

The fact that he was standing there in a cheerleader costume might have contributed to the giggly feeling too.

"Well, of course you're not," she finally said, somehow managing to keep a straight face. "The costume isn't complete yet." She stepped up behind him as he stared at his mirrored reflection, slipping the wig – blue, with pigtails – onto his head. "Samantha thought this would go well with your eyes."

_Of course, the red blush that spread over Neal's face didn't really coordinate well with the peach-colored costume…_

"Oh, and there's one more thing." She reached back into the box and pulled out two large, fluffy pompoms, thrusting them into his hands. "There."

"June…"

"Neal, you _did_ promise."

"But… wouldn't a gangster be just as good? There's a perfect suit in the wardrobe, and I can slick back my hair…"

June just stared at him, one elegant eyebrow raised.

So Neal tried again. "What about a doctor? Mozzie has everything…"

"Neal, you lost the bet! Surely you don't mean to say that you want to teach Samantha that it's all right to welch on a bet."

Neal's expression clearly indicated that he thought that might just be a life lesson she should learn – so June countered it with her sternest grandmother look.

Neal finally sighed and lowered his head. "Fine. But just so you know, I am never _letting_ her win at anything again. I don't care if she's only eleven, or that she's been sick. And I don't care if the game is just Go Fish! or Trivial Pursuit. I'm playing to win."

June just smiled and patted his arm. "Of course you are, dear. I'll see you downstairs in about fifteen minutes."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth had finished the briefing for the serving staff, verified that all of the necessary equipment had been put up, and made sure that the caterer was on schedule in the kitchen. The string quartet was set up in the parlor, the photographer was ready to capture all of the guests as they arrived, the gift bags were assembled, and the two moonlighting daycare workers had the activities for the younger children ready in the basement family room.<p>

Samantha and her parents were already there. The young girl looked healthy, some three months after her transplant surgery – and was absolutely radiant in a Gryffindor school uniform. Her parents had gamely done their best imitations of Professor Snape and Minerva McGonagall, in keeping with the Harry Potter world. Samantha, with significant help from Neal, had also arranged for the Potter-themed decorations.

Her mental checklist seemed complete, but just in case, she went to her briefcase to find the actual written list. And a quick look out the window confirmed that it was almost dark, and time to turn on the outdoor lights.

They could do that as soon as June and Neal came down…

* * *

><p>June smoothed down the fabric of the dress, studying her reflection in the mirror. Samantha might be a bit disappointed that her grandmother hadn't gone for the Professor Trelawney fashion the girl had suggested, but the regal ice queen look had served her well before. The white dress shimmered with dripping lace, sequins, and glitter, making it look like ice. And the headpiece of similarly-decorated icicles looked positively frosty. All in all, she was pleased with the look – a costume, but still refined enough for the fund-raising portion of the party.<p>

She adjusted the sleeves, took one more look, and then stepped out into the hall.

She hadn't heard Neal come down yet, so she went up a couple of steps toward the top floor, noting that the door to his apartment was still closed. "Neal, it's time to go."

No answer.

It _was_ possible that he had gone downstairs and she hadn't heard him, but… "Neal?"

"June…"

She had to smile at the unfamiliar, almost petulant whine in his voice, and since he was still behind closed doors, he wouldn't know. "Come on, Neal. It's time to turn on the lights, and you _did_ promise."

The door finally opened and she heard footsteps. His feet came into view first, clad in black leather athletic shoes – probably the only bit of his own clothing that showed. The leg warmers appeared next – fluffy white and peach-striped; Samantha had proclaimed them perfect for disguising the tracking anklet. Bare leg then until the perky skirt started.

And fortunately, for an adult costume, the skirt was _slightly_ longer than some of the skimpy outfits the teenaged cheerleaders wore.

By the time blue pigtails came into view, she had carefully schooled her features into a neutral mask of grandmotherly patience.

And she didn't laugh.

She held out a hand and, after carefully transferring both pompoms to his far hand, he reached out and took it. Together they started down the stairs.

* * *

><p>The checklist was complete, and Elizabeth was just putting it back in the briefcase when she caught the motion on the stairs.<p>

Somehow, she managed not to drop the briefcase and spill the contents onto the floor.

Neal looked… adorable.

And thoroughly miserable.

_Mental note – her nieces and nephews were never allowed to choose her Halloween costume!_

Slipping her cell phone into the pocket of her skirt – for easy access should, say, a _photo __opportunity_ arise – she set the case down and walked toward the stairs. She was just about to compliment June, whose outfit was truly stunning, when the official photographer came up, readying his camera.

Neal's reaction was immediate, and rather spectacular. He jumped the last four steps and disappeared around the corner into the study in a flash of blue and peach. "No, no photos!" echoed after him.

Elizabeth just smiled and patted the phone in her pocket. There would come a moment…

* * *

><p>The phone <em>dinged<em> with an incoming message and Peter looked over at the screen, smiling when he saw the name of the sender. Hopefully it was a progress report on the party, maybe a photo of some of the decorations he knew Neal had been helping with. Or maybe…

He laughed so loud and so hard, it woke Satchmo with a start from his well-deserved nap. The dog scurried away from the table, casting a wary glance back at his human.

When he was finally able to breathe normally again, Peter quickly forwarded the message – with attachment – to his personal e-mail. For good measure, he sent it to Jones and Diana too. That way they were covered, just in case Neal found out the photo had been sent, and Peter's phone just somehow managed to 'accidentally' disappear.

And maybe tomorrow, during the time he had promised to spend with Elizabeth , they could find a few minutes to stop at the drugstore. The one with the nifty machine that could make large prints of digital photos while you waited. In fact, it was very close to a restaurant that El was particularly fond of, so that would work fine. Under the circumstances, he didn't think she'd mind the detour.

_Oh, this promised to be the best Monday morning in the office ever…_


End file.
